Page 37 of Her Last Confession

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Novak's face was like a polished sheet of granite as he gripped the steering wheel. His lips tightened a bit as he guided the car around a curve at seventy miles per hour. Rachel braced herself against the dashboard, studying the GPS on her phone. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees in strobing patterns, creating a disorienting light show through the windshield. It was as if it knew it only had another ten minutes or so of life and was trying to show off. Her head throbbed with each flash, a reminder of how long they'd been at this, how many hours they'd spent chasing Bradley and his murderous ghost through both backwoods and office buildings.

"Take a left here!" she called out, spotting the dirt road that had taken on a blue hue on her phone’s screen. The turn was almost hidden by overgrown bushes, the kind of place you'd miss if you weren't specifically looking for it. Perfect for Bradley's purposes, she thought grimly.

Novak cranked the wheel hard. The car fishtailed, sending up a spray of gravel that sounded like buckshot against the wheel wells. The backend swung wide before Novak muscled it back in line, his jaw set in concentration. The car's frame groaned in protest, the earlier damage from their run-in with Marcus Kent making itself known with every bump and swerve.

"She holding together?" Rachel asked, eyeing the way Novak had to fight the steering wheel to keep them straight.

"Barely," he replied through gritted teeth. "Kent did us no favors with that little demolition derby earlier."

The dirt road stretched before them like a tunnel through the woods, barely wide enough for a single vehicle. Ancient oaks and maples created a natural canopy overhead, their branches reaching across the gap like grasping fingers. Loosegravel pinged against the undercarriage in a constant barrage, each impact making Rachel wince. She'd have to write one hell of a vehicle damage report when this was over—assuming they survived long enough to file the paperwork.

A choking cloud of dust billowed in their wake, visible in the rearview mirror like a pursuing spirit. Rachel found herself checking it compulsively, half-expecting to see Bradley's vehicle emerging from the haze. After what he'd done to Sandra Mitchell and Timothy Walsh, after what he planned to do to Jennifer Parker, she wouldn't put anything past him. She kept her mind trained on that possibility—that they were possibly on their way to not only another suicide pod, but perhaps Christopher Bradley as well. Her pulse quickened as they pressed on, feeling a growing certainty that they may be coming to the end of this. She could feel it in Novak too, see it in the way he leaned forward slightly over the steering wheel, in the controlled intensity of his movements.

"Another turn coming up," she said, squinting at her phone through the strobing sunlight. "Should be— there!"

The second road was little more than a glorified trail, rutted and worn by years of sparse traffic and weather. Tire-carved channels ran deep enough to hide a small child, and fallen branches created an obstacle course that would challenge a monster truck, let alone their already-battered sedan.

The car bounced violently as Novak tried to navigate between the worst of the damage. Each impact jarred Rachel's teeth, and she could hear the undercarriage scraping along the ground, churning up dirt and rocks in equal measure. Not good.

"This isn't going to work," Novak growled after a particularly nasty jolt threatened to bottom out the suspension. He swerved to avoid what looked like a fallen tree branch. "We're going to tear out the undercarriage at this rate."

Rachel was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her mind racing ahead to their target. "According to the coordinates, it’s only about half a mile from here. We can make it on foot." She checked her weapon, more out of habit than necessity. "Probably faster at this point anyway."

They abandoned the car on a relatively flat stretch of road—ortrailmight be a more appropriate description. The moment Rachel's feet hit the ground, she took off at a sprint, Novak falling into step beside her. The forest pressed in around them, thick with late summer growth. Their footfalls crunched on fallen leaves and broken twigs, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the relative quiet. Had it not been for the knowledge of why they were there, it would have been a rather scenic and peaceful scene.

The air was heavy with the scent of pine and decomposing vegetation, the kind of rich, earthy smell that reminded Rachel of childhood camping trips with her father. Somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker drummed out its territorial challenge, the sound echoing through the trees like morse code. A squirrel chattered angrily at their passage, probably warning every creature within earshot of their presence.

Rachel's lungs burned as they ran, her legs starting to protest the unexpected exercise. She wasn't entirely back to her pre-cancer fitness level—something that frustrated her daily—but determination drove her forward. Each breath felt like inhaling fire, but she pushed through it, focused on the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground.

Novak matched her pace, his breathing steady and controlled. They'd gotten better at working together over the past few weeks, learning to read each other's movements and intentions. Not quite the seamless partnership she'd had with Jack, but getting there. She had to admit, he'd proven himselfmore capable than she'd initially given him credit for…and that was only after two major cases and a few smaller jobs.

The grumble of an engine cut through the forest sounds behind them, growing louder. Rachel and Novak exchanged glances but didn't break stride. Her hand instinctively moved toward her weapon, wondering if this might be Bradley on his way to use this other pod. But a moment later, a truck with police decals appeared around the bend ahead of them, its white and blue markings visible through the trees. Wheeler was behind the wheel, grinning as he pulled alongside them.

"Need a lift?" he called out through the open window, keeping pace with their run. "Though I suppose at this point, it'd take longer to climb in than to just finish the run." Despite his light tone, Rachel could see the tension in his expression. He knew as well as they did what was at stake.

He pulled ahead slightly, and by the time he'd parked the truck, Rachel and Novak had caught up. Rachel looked to her phone and saw that they’d reached the location where the drone had spotted the pod in the woods. All three of them approached the grove of trees where the GPS coordinates led them, spreading out slightly in an unconscious tactical formation.

The pod sat there like an alien artifact, its sleek metal surface reflecting dappled sunlight. Rachel hitched in a breath when she first saw it—it looked exactly like the ones they'd found Sandra Mitchell and Timothy Walsh in, down to the smallest detail. The sight of it made her stomach turn, knowing what these machines were designed for, how Bradley had perverted their purpose even further.

She approached cautiously, using her foot to trigger the bottom latch, careful not to touch anything with her hands. They'd need to preserve any evidence they could find.

The lid lifted smoothly, revealing the pristine interior…and something else.

"There's power running to it," Rachel said, noting the faint hum of electronics. The sound was barely there, more vibration than noise, but unmistakable. "It's like it's in standby mode, just waiting for someone to use it." The thought sent a chill down her spine despite the little sprint she’d just endured.

Wheeler nodded, peering inside. "The one we pulled from the Mitchell scene had its own power supply built in. Completely self-contained. No need to plug it into anything." He ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "Makes it pretty convenient to use them out in the middle of nowhere…somewhere like this."

"So what's our play here?" Novak asked, scanning the surrounding forest. His hand rested casually near his weapon, ready but not obvious about it. "Do we pull back, set up surveillance, wait to see if Bradley tries to bring Parker here? Or do we shut it down now?"

Rachel shook her head, thinking of the evidence they'd gathered. "We found five names on that list. This is only the third pod we've located. There could be two more out there somewhere." She didn't need to add what they were all thinking: two more potential death traps waiting to be sprung.

Novak had moved closer to the pod, studying the control panel with a frown. "You know what bothers me? If it's powered up and in standby mode, could Bradley be controlling it remotely? Turn it on or off from wherever he is?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implications. Wheeler pulled out his phone, his expression thoughtful. "You know what? Let me check with my guys back at the precinct. They've been working on the pod we confiscated from the Mitchell site. They’re not exactly a tech team…just two guys who happen to be good with electronics and wires. That sort of thing." He put the call on speaker. It rang three times before it was answered by a loud man.

“Hello?”

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